


Special Performance

by icybluepenguin



Category: British Actor RPF, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Control, Dom Tom, Dom Tom Hiddleston, F/M, Glove Kink, Gloves, Interview Magazine, Leather, Light BDSM, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay, POV First Person, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex, Stripper Tom, Stripper Tom Hiddleston, bossy Tom, bossy tom hiddleston
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 08:57:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8199052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icybluepenguin/pseuds/icybluepenguin
Summary: Being in charge of costumes at a male strip club has its perks- in particular, watching one Tom Hiddleston dancing in leather.  After a successful show, Tom makes his interest- and his kinks- known.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Who could resist leather-bound sex club Tom?! Not me, that’s for sure. Those Interview magazine photos were *deadly.* So… here is some total porn with no plot whatsoever holding it back. It’s explicit, dirty, bossy, full of leather, and not at all responsible behavior… Enjoy!

“Your sets were fantastic tonight, Tom!”  I hung the heavy leather trenchcoat up on the garment rack.  “Just- the way you walked and the… the…”  I swallowed against the saliva building in my mouth, picturing his strut down the stage in this jacket, the smolder in his eyes, the sweat soaking his chest under the apron- “Yeah… it was… just fantastic.”

Tom had done two performances tonight as his alter-ego Hans.  He sauntered and swiveled and thrust his way through the bass-heavy music, the flashing lights sparking off his burnished gold hair.  The audience had gone insane, each piece of lost clothing resulting in louder screams.  And I couldn’t blame them.  He had been on fire tonight.  He was always good- although with a body and face like his, all he really had to do was show up- but tonight… In my 6 months of working here, I had never seen him like this.

Being the costume girl at a male strip club was not what I had intended to do with my costume design degree, but I had to admit that it was pretty fun.  Each guy had their own theme, which kept me on my toes organizing it all, and Tom’s was a sort of 80’s dystopian punk.  Lots of black leather, zippers, gloves.  

_Oh shit, the gloves!_

I bent down, rummaging through the pile of clothes on the floor to find the half-gloves that went with his biker/pilot/who-the-hell-cares-as-long-as-it-comes-off outfit.  My hand tangled in the long belt and I mumbled a curse under my breath.

“You’re normally much more talkative, love.”  Tom’s voice came from behind the partition marking off the shower area.  “That’s all you have to say, you liked my show tonight?”

“Oh yeah, you were incredible-” I babbled, still searching for the gloves.  “That twirl with the belt and the way you flipped your hat…”

“You’ve got a great ass, you know.”

I jumped up.  Indignation heated my skin as I spun to see Tom peering around the partition.  “How long have you been there!  Don’t stare at me.”  I held my hands over my butt, even though he couldn’t see it anymore.

He laughed.  “You can stare at mine, but I can’t stare at yours?”  He stepped out, his jeans hugging his thighs like they were painted on, his leather jacket snug on his waist just above his belt.  He had styled his hair, but it was still damp, a few curls clinging to his forehead.

I kept my eyes on his face, trying to ignore the heat in mine.  “I don’t… I mean, no more than the women in the audience…”

Tom took a step closer, all at once seeming bigger, taller.  “But you’re not in the audience.”  Another step.  “You’re here.  I’m here.”  His smooth baritone dropped lower.  “And I can show you so much more than I show them.”

I gulped audibly.  “Wh-what do you…”  I waved my hands, unsure what to do with them, how to stand still, how to speak.  “I…”

“I’ve seen how you look at me.  More than that, I’ve paid attention to how you help me dress for my sets.”  He was so close now, another step and we’d be toe to toe.  “How your hands linger.  How your eyes caress my body.  How your breath quickens, stops even.”

I wasn’t sure if I was breathing now, in fact.  I couldn’t blink, caught in his eyes, those unbelievably blue orbs staring into my soul with burning intensity.  

“You want me.”  It wasn’t a question.  “It’s written all over your face.  I’ve watched you too- and I’ve got your number, sweetheart, I’ve got you figured out.  And I want you.”  

The air was too thin.  I was sure that I was going to faint at any moment.  I could smell him- fresh soap and cedar styling gel and earthy leather.  He’d scrubbed the sweat and make-up away, but the masculine scent of his skin was still clear.  

“You want to know what it’s like.  So kneel for me, like a good girl.”

There it was, my way out- a slight inflection in his command, not quite a question but enough space for me to refuse.  To just stay standing or walk away.  

My way out, if I wanted one.  

I didn’t.  

I sank to my knees in front of him, trembling.  My eyes bounced from his face to his toned thighs and back again, rubbing my damp palms on my jeans.  

“Fix the buckles on my boots.”  

The order was soft, slow, still giving me a chance to back out.  My hands shook as I reached out, excitement and nerves jittering through my muscles.  I had fantasized about something like this and now the reality loomed large in front of me.  All I had to do was touch it.  

I tightened the buckles, smoothing the cuffs of his jeans down.  It was a simple thing, a task I had done a hundred times getting him ready for a show.  But this time, I looked up at him towering above me and my stomach flipped at the look in his eyes.  Commanding, expectant, evaluating.  And hungry.  

This time, I was serving him in a completely different way.  

“And now bring me my gloves.”

I hesitated, looking at his slim, elegant hands.  He clucked his tongue and when I met his gaze, he was frowning.  “I, um, c-can’t find them,” I stammered out finally.  “I was looking for them, just… before…”

“Keep looking, then.”  His voice was icy steel, disappointment tinging the edge.  

I started to rise, only to freeze when he repeated the clucking sound.  

“Hands and knees, darling.  I didn’t tell you that you could stand.”  

He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms while he watched me crawl around the piles of costumes.  I could feel his stare as if he were touching me.  I was flustered, overheated, nearly crawling out of my skin- and that’s when it occurred to me that he hadn’t actually touched me yet.  All because of his eyes and his voice…  What would it be like with his hands on me?  

I finally found the gloves in the heap of another stripper’s costume.  My eyes narrowed.  Everyone was obsessive about keeping each performer’s clothes separate.   There was only one reason for Tom’s gloves to be in Eric’s pile and it wasn’t an accident.  

I crawled back to Tom, preening under his appreciative gaze.  He gave me a small smile back before he shifted his stance, standing straight, legs apart in a glorious power-stance.  

“Such a good girl.  Put them on.”  He held out his hand, his other resting on his hip.  

Smoothing the supple thin leather over each finger, I marveled at the muscle, the strong tendons, the well-timed nails.  The veins under his skin begged for my tongue to trace them, to find my way along them to suck on his sensitive fingertips.  Before I could do more than lean towards the cutout on the back of the glove, he moved.  

His hand slid into my hair, twisting into a fist.  The leather was cool against my scalp, not yet warmed by his skin.  He tugged me up to my feet, staring down at me with that same soul-scouring look from before.  I shook as he pulled me close, pressing the curves of my body along the hard planes of his.  

The kiss began gently, a brushing of his lips, a flicker of his tongue.  At the first touch of his skin on mine, all my nervous tension disappeared, leaving me slack and pliant.  He bent my head back, pressing harder, exploring deeper.  I was floating as the kiss began to burn, his grip in my hair tilting me as he liked.  His teeth nipped at my lip, my body molding to his.  His arms were the only thing keeping me upright.  

When he broke away, my eyes were hazy.   I swayed on my feet, licking my lips to taste him again, muzzy with arousal.  My skin prickled, over-sensitive to his slightest motion, tuned to him like a divining rod.

He pulled his phone out from his back pocket, turning on music with a rich, sultry beat even through the small speaker.  One of the pieces he danced to.  Just the sound of it conjured the red and blue lights, the harsh angles that highlighted his cheekbones, his Adonis belt, even his slender strong forearms.  I could play his entire act in my mind, see the way he flirted with the audience, how he teased them with each piece of clothing he removed, the play of light over the sweaty expanse of his chest.

“Let’s turn the tables,” he smirked, waving the phone in my face.  “Strip for me, sweetheart.”

I shook my head, stepping back from him, hugging my elbows close.  “Tom- I-i can’t…”

His expression darkened, his beautiful mouth twisting in a frown.  “I wasn’t asking.  Give me a show.”

I wasn’t sure if I wanted to cry or push my hand into my pants at that look- his disapproval was crushing but at the same time, extremely hot.  I took a steadying breath, squirming against the wetness I felt soaking my panties.  

Tom gave me some space, leaving me alone in the middle of the room as he returned to leaning on the wall.  I spent a few moments getting the rhythm of the music, the flow.  I knew his act by heart; I could mimic it well enough, I was sure.

Closing my eyes, I grasped the hem of my shirt and began.

Halfway through, I risked a look at Tom.  His eyes were glued to my chest, his hand rubbing his groin slowly.  I felt so vulnerable, gyrating my hips as I slipped the straps of my bra down my arms.  I was burning with embarrassment and powerful arousal, but as I watched his tongue flicker over his lips and the roll of his body into his palm, the embarrassment slipped away.  I bent forward, reaching behind me to unclasp the band.  He let out a small “oooh,” stroking his other hand down his neck.  

All that was left was my panties.  I turned around, shimmying, trying not to think of how silly I must look.  My thumbs hooked into the waistband and down they went.  With a deep inhale, I spun back to face him.

He pushed himself off the wall, raking my body with hungry scrutiny.  “Beautiful,” he hummed.

I knew I had the goofiest grin on my face, giddy with this approval.  I pressed my thighs together, my nipples hardening under his stare.  He looked so good in that jacket and with his gloves still on…

He unbuckled his belt as he came closer, the sway of his hips hypnotic.  “Down, girl,” he commanded, with a snap of his fingers.  He waited until I had gotten back on my knees before he touched his zipper, revealing his cock standing proud between the plackets of his jeans.  

I waited, shifting and fidgeting.  As soon as he was close enough, I leaned forward, opening my mouth.  

His hand tangled in my hair again, stopping my movement.  I whined.  The head of his cock was already pushed free from his foreskin, smooth and blushing and I needed to taste him.  I stuck out my tongue and strained against his hold.  

“Eager little thing,” Tom purred.  “You want this?”  His free hand gripped his shaft and he sighed as he gave himself a languid pull.  

“Yes… please…”

A drop of precum beaded at his tip, slowly growing with each stroke.  I twisted, wincing at the prickling pain on my scalp.  He held me firmly not letting me move an inch as the drop fell to the ground between us.  

“Tom, please-”

The second drop formed quicker and to my relief, he drew my head closer.  He angled me just as he wanted, still holding himself out of reach.  I kept my mouth open, as if I were trying to catch snowflakes, only instead of ice crystals, my tongue caught warm, tangy salt.  

I wanted more.

After a few more tantalizing drops, he let the head of his cock rest in my mouth.  I wrapped my lips around him, sucking and laving the sensitive skin.  Maybe if I showed him how good I could make him feel, he’d give me all of it and fuck my mouth…  

But no.  He pulled away only a minute later, yanking me off him with a _pop_!  He had moved so quickly, strings of saliva trailed from his tip.  

My teeth ground together and my fists clenched.  “Why am I down here if you won’t let me suck your cock?” I snapped.  

Tom tilted my head back so I could meet his eyes.  “Because I like watching you struggle for it.  Because I want you to know that you get nothing that I do not give you.”  The tug on my hair made my eyes water.  “You are here to obey.  I control when you touch, I control when you beg, I control when you come.  Understood?”

“Yes, Tom,” I whispered, desperate for his praise again.  I would have hung my head, if his grip gave me any slack.  

“Good girl.  Then get my belt, the one from my jumpsuit.”

The belt he wanted was long and skinny.  I had seen him crack it, whip-like, in his act, then dangle it in front of the women in the audience and dance the end along their shoulders. _Oh god, what is he going to do with this?_

I held it out for him, but he didn’t take it immediately.  Instead, he bore down on me, forcing me to my back on the floor.  He straddled my waist, keeping his cock just out of the reach of my tongue again.  He chuckled at my scowl, drawing my wrists up over my head.  

Around and around and around the belt went until my arms were wrapped together from wrist to elbow.  He pushed my bound arms to the ground above my head with a quiet, “ _They stay there_ ,” and then he was stroking himself again, precum splashing into the hollow of my throat.

The look in his eyes as he hovered over me stole my breath.  They were hard, steely, and at the same time, excited, kind.  His pupils were dark, his irises electric blue.  He was hungry but patient, driven by lust but enjoying the game.

He slid down my body, stopping to circle his thumbs over my breasts.  The gloves made the caress almost impersonal, the smooth leather separating my aching skin from his.  Tom twisted and pinched my nipples until I was panting, arching into his hands.

“Open your legs for me.  Wider.”  He knelt between them, pushing my knees up, my feet flat on the floor.  “There’s my good girl…”

I shut my eyes, turning my head to hide my face in my arm.  I couldn’t watch him staring at me like that.  My legs trembled.

He smoothed his palms over my thighs until I stopped moving, then his fingers were spreading me wide, blowing cool air across the wet skin.  “You’re soaking,” he murmured.  “Such a good, sweet girl for me.  I knew you’d enjoy this.”

I jumped at the feel of leather on my labia.  Up and down he stroked, up and down, at a maddeningly slow pace.  He flickered over my clit, laughing at the jerk in my hips.

“Nearly there now, love.  Take off my gloves.”

I blinked at him, flexing my bound hands to remind him of his instructions.  With a smile, he put a finger on my mouth.  I could taste myself on the leather and I bit down on his fingertip.  Finger by finger, I pulled the gloves off with my teeth.  He put them carefully beside my head before returning to his task.

My eyes rolled back in my skull when he slid two long digits inside me.  “God, oh God…”

“I’m not a god, but you can keep saying it,” he chuckled.  The smug bastard.  

My reply turned into a long, breathless moan, his fingers dragging over my g-spot. “ _F-fuck_ , that’s good-”

Another few strokes and he stopped, ignoring my anguished whine.  “Here are the rules.  I will let you come on my fingers- only if you fuck yourself on them, and only if you beg me while you do.  You will look at me the whole time.  Is that clear?”

“Yes, yes, just stop teasing me, just let me come, please-”  I rocked up into his hand, gasping in surprise when he thrust back.  He was so deep…  My eyes locked on his face, although soon they unfocused as my attention narrowed to the slick, throbbing cleft between my legs.  “Please, Tom, please, I’ve been good- let me come, please…”

“You have been very good, darling.”  He pressed down on my clit as I writhed, glowing under his approval, desperate under his hands.  “You can come for me now.”  

I undulated faster, his fingers putting unyielding pressure on my g-spot that made my vision fuzz.  I was flying, falling, seeing stars and bright blue eyes, wailing into his mouth as he leaned forward to kiss me.

“Oh, that’s my pretty girl,” Tom cooed.  “Don’t you look lovely, falling apart like that…”

He sat back up, lifting my quivering legs over his shoulders.  I heard the crinkle of foil and the distinctive sound of a condom being unrolled.

Tom hissed through his teeth, rocking against my dripping folds.  It didn’t take long before the latex covering him was warm and slippery, his face a study in pained restraint.  He bit his lip as he slid over me again, rubbing my sensitive clit with his shaft.  

“Tom, oh my God, please just fuck me already…”  I lifted my hips, trying to force him inside me.  I should have known better.  

He bit the inside of my ankle, sucking at the skin.  “You think because you’ve come, you can get cheeky?”  Another bite to the opposite calf.  “Oh no, my girl.  You are here to obey, remember?  We’re not done until _I’ve_ come.”  One big hand slid up my torso to cup my throat, tilting my chin up.  “And I don’t have to fuck you to do that…”

My eyes widened as his thumb caressed my racing pulse but my mouth stayed quiet, my lip caught between my teeth.  I lay still, looking as contrite as I could.  

His smile was beautiful.  “That’s it.  Now we can have some fun.”  Both hands gripped my thighs, nails digging into my skin.

He pressed into me, slow as molasses, letting me feel every stretch and twinge of my walls as they accommodated his size.  My toes curled by his ears when he grazed my g-spot, my eyes closed under his fiery stare.  

“Move for me,” he coaxed, grinding against me at the end of his stroke.  “Show me how much you want this.”

He didn’t need to ask me twice.  I canted my pelvis, arched my back, flexed the muscles that held him, anything and everything I could do to fuck myself onto his cock.  He grunted, jaw clenched, his grip on my legs like iron.  

I begged and pleaded breathlessly, a constant stream of _please_ and _Tom_ and _I need you_.  

He spread my legs farther, hooking my knees over his elbows as he began to move with me.  Hard for a few thrusts, slow for a few more.  But deep, always deep in me, spearing me with long swiveling strokes or quick snapping jerks.  

He bent over me, making me gasp when his pubic bone touched my clit.  He ground down, growling through bared teeth.  All control and finesse was gone, only his hunger and passion and hot and hard and in a blazing, overwhelming, brilliant moment, everything went black.  

I blinked my eyes open, still breathing hard, to see Tom straddling my waist again.  He was unwrapping the belt from around my arms, rubbing them and bending my wrists back and forth.  

“There’s my good girl,” he beamed when he saw me watching him.  He stripped off his leather jacket, draping it over my shivering form.  “Feeling okay?”

I stared at him muzzily.  “That was… _intense_ , ” I mumbled. “I feel… sleepy.  Buzzed.  Great.  I dunno.”

Tom moved off of me and then pulled me into his lap.  He was scorching after the chill of the floorboards and I couldn’t help but snuggle into him.  

“Hungry?”

“Um, what?”

“I want to take you to dinner-”  He glanced at the clock over the make-up mirror.  “Uh, breakfast.  It’s a bit more normal than fucking you on the floor of the dressing room for a date.  But not nearly as hot.”  He brushed his thumb over my mouth, then stole a kiss before I could say anything.

“Okay, Tom… but…”  I shook my head to clear it, the lingering hormones making it hard to think.  “I have to rack your costume first.  It’s still all in a heap.”

“Well, not the gloves and the belt.”  He winked.  “You sit here, then get dressed when you feel up to it.  I’ll take care of my stuff.”  His voice dropped, his eyes darkened as he closed in on my lips again.  “I always take care of my things.”


End file.
